


Paleblood:Awakening

by Prophetofpuppets



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: A fan fiction of a fan fiction, Are you ready for it to get uncomfortable because its about to get uncomfortable, Attempts to flesh out the world, Blood Echoes-headcanoned to hell and back, Coming of Age, Everybody knows things are screwed and need fixing, F/F, F/M, Insight-headcanoned to hell and back, Major Character Injury, Major end game spoilers, Other, Plot twist The Great Ones are dicks, Taking the lore and basically guessing, The author writes too much detail, The hunters nightmare-headcanoned to hell and back, waking up from a coma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prophetofpuppets/pseuds/Prophetofpuppets
Summary: A canon-divergent AU. The moon vanishes.Fun times ensue for everyone.A young man awakens in a cold crypt with no knowledge of how he got there,how long he had been there or who he even is. Clad in decaying leather and cloth, he sets out to find his reason for being there. But what will he find on his journey for his memories at the risk of his sanity for insight into the world and his past will come at a price when he makes it to the surface.





	1. Chapter One: Quia frigus erat, qui mortuis excitatus venatum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resplendentCaballer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resplendentCaballer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Paleblood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959125) by [resplendentCaballer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resplendentCaballer/pseuds/resplendentCaballer). 
  * Inspired by [Paleblood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959125) by [resplendentCaballer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resplendentCaballer/pseuds/resplendentCaballer). 



Chapter One: Quia frigus erat, qui mortuis excitatus venatum

Blank. Nothing left except for a hole from which all he ever was or would be leaked out in agonizing sluggishness. With the void came the cold, absence of life, of blood, of breath.

Was this death? 

Being unable to move, feeling himself drip away to somewhere unknown?

There was a chime, a ringing that sent echoes into himself, then a clicking and whirring.

Suddenly he felt light and fell, hitting something cold and smooth with his body.Surely this had killed him? One last feeling of pain before his last breath? 

No, he could move. The dead didn’t move. His eyes pulled open, struggling against years of dried blood. The void was replaced with grey stone and tiles. Two pale tanned blobs on the ground, vision sharpened.’Hands’ his mind spoke. Two hands on the tile, warmth flowed into his form, a silvery gust clouded his vision. ‘Breath’ his mind chimed encouraging him, hot in the cold air causing slight steam that clouded his vision.

He rose, a bit confused to find that he consisted of more than just hands. Dizzily, he looked down at his body, clad in grey robes torn into tatters. Awareness flooded in like a tidal wave. 

’Alive’ his mind echoed, he was alive, scarred flesh visible through the claw marked fabric.

Slowly, he lifted his head and took in his otherworldly surroundings. 

What was he in? Where was he? A strange shape of stone and metal -- ‘altar’ his mind provided as the chill began to creep -- beckoned him towards it. He dropped to his knees before the shrine, hand falling inside a puddle of silver fluid at the end of a tube -- out of many tubes,some that lead to him in fact --but those had red in them, that laid on the decorated, dusty surface. 

‘Paleblood’ his mind supplied.

Beautiful. Lifting his hand, he watched the blood flow along his fingers. Curiously and almost of no conscious thought, he brought the blood-soaked fingers to his mouth and drank.

A million thoughts and sensations rushed into him. The sky -- infinite -- the pale eye of the moon glaring down and judging him unworthy.

“Oh, Darling, don’t play with your food -- ah? What is this you’ve found?”

His eyes opened to the sight of the stone ceiling once again, though not quite as dazed as before. This silver substance… paleblood? Was it dangerous? Still, the risk… He licked the remainder off his hand, but it failed to induce the same reaction. Strange. Even so, his mind felt much more clear, the clouds having parted from the surface of his brain.

But where there were such strange substances, there was bound to be dangers of other sorts.

I need...

”... a weapon.” His voice surprised him, deeper than he thought but higher than his frame would have suggested. He searched the room, avoiding the altar. He didn’t want another accident. Eventually, he happened upon a discarded old weapon of sorts. 

Rust and blood.

He smelled it on impulse.

Beast blood.

His nose wrinkled at its off-putting smell and age. How long had this been here waiting for him to find it? No matter, it had a blade. He picked it up, only for familiar images to blaze once more into his mind.

Rough, matted fur tearing apart beneath a serrated edge, blood and bone parting as screams of all kinds filled the fire choked air.  
It appeared, horns like some sort of huntsmen’s trophy bared as a beacon. This was the leader of the pack. It howled and screeched like no creature ever should, the piercing cries almost enough to make a seasoned warrior cower.  
The beast charged him, not giving nearly enough time for him to dislodge his blade from his previous quarry. Thin, razor sharp claws dug into his chest, warmth bursting up into his throat as blood sought out the closest way out.  
That encroaching darkness, once more…  
And a feminine tsk of disdain from behind them.

 

The heavy weapon slipped from his hands. “W-hat… in t-t-the… w-world.” 

He gasped out as he looked at it, but groans and moans could be heard from deeper within. He picked up the weapon, regardless of the baggage. His knuckles tightened around the handle, oddly comfortable gripping the trigger. 

He cautiously stepped into the hallway. “He-Hello?” he called out, fear making his voice quiver. He turned a corner and there, standing there was a thin -- impossibly thin -- man who was more corpse than human, clutching a broken blade.

He moved back, tripping over an irregular cobblestone. The living corpse tackled him, flailing as it tried to gut him. 

He grasped desperately for its wrist, tubes in his arms restraining his own movements. Hard breath struggled as they grappled. He pressed his weapon to the corpse's neck, the blade bit into the neck drawing blood.

He pulled the trigger as he kept the struggle going. The blade slide back into the weapon, he pulled the other trigger with a prayer on his lips and with a hiss and deafening bang, the blade shot out nearly two feet before he could blink and decapitated the corpse. 

Foul blood gushed from the stump as its head was parted. His ears ringing as he pushed his foe’s body to the side. The accursed ringing ceased gradually.

He stood up, examining the corpse and saw a small pack on its waist. He searched it out of curiosity, a small vial of red blood. 

Since his slaying of the thin foe, he now seemed to know more about the crypt, seeing hallways and paths faintly in his third eye,had he absorbed its memories?. 

He knew not if it was real, just faint echoes of the corpse walking in halls long abandoned.

Conjurations of my addled mind perhaps?

He peeked around the corner, already knowing from echoes that there was a door further down. 

Keep going.

Something motivated him. Driving him on despite his stiff limbs,cold bones,and heavy breath.

Find paleblood, find fresher, find the source. 

He knew not why he thought these things,the only conclusion was that he needed to find more. More of it would be this way, or at least a path to it.

He stumbled down the hallway before reaching the end of the tubes length, his body still protesting from laying on the tomb’s floor for who knew how long. He looked at the bronze door,then at his tubes, they had to go.

He grasped at the bases of them and pulled.Small spouts of blood flowed once they were removed and in alarm he used the blood vial he found instinctively. Jabbing it into his thigh and felt the heat spread until the leaking blood ceased.

Healing blood works miracles.

There was no handle or visible way to push it open except at the bottom there was a grip. He squatted low and grabbed it, pulling up.

Feeling every second he had laid on the floor now. His body felt weakened by the lack of activity and he barely managed to lift the door two feet before moving under it and using the rest of his body to force it upwards. Hearing it lock in place afterwards. 

Breaths difficult as he walked away from it, “Who-who d-designs…… a door...like that?” He gasped as he kept walking. 

He walked through a couple empty corridors, the smell of death and decay filling his nostrils. The sound of water dripping down the walls echoed with his footsteps. Opening doors to side rooms he found on the way. 

The first one contained a quaint wooden chest holding three blood vials that he pocketed. Inside room another was a bigger chest, protected with slashing blades that flew along their paths on pendulums.  
He watched the pattern, stretching his stiffness away as he watched and when they cleared for even the smallest second he bolted for the other side. Rolling away from the last blade to land in front of the sturdy wooden chest.He pulled on the lock, rusted shut. He looked at it, then at his stake driver. Clicking the stake inwards, backing up and eyeballing the distance before firing and cutting the lock off.A strange twinkling triangle gem was inside the chest, resting in a cushion with a few silver shiny bullets. He picked them up and took them.

A final room laid in the branching path off the main one. He pushed the door open, more thin corpses stood there, groaning and shifting as he entered. Ready to attack them before noting their passiveness. He examined them a few times, they seemed dead and lacked sight and possibly hearing.

Easy prey but are they worth the time?

Ignoring them now as he moved to a stone coffin flanked by a switch of some kind.He examined the coffin and switch. Striding over to the switch and pulling it to the other side on a whim. Hearing the sound of machinery and gears turn and crash. 

That did something, I think, but don’t know.

Turning to the coffin now, pushing the lid before kicking at it to shift it and send it crashing to the ground. Behind him, the corpses groaned, but he paid no mind as he searched it. In a pile of bone dust there was small pouches and a strange jelly.

Bone ash and coldblood.

Those strange words were echoed from inside his mind as he focused on the sound of distant feet on stone. He whipped around, the formerly still undead were attacking. 

Now several bullets,blood vials, and ash pouches heavier from his exploration with a dollop of coldblood as the cherry on top. He held it in his hand, looking at the jelly like blood. Then pocketed it with the gem and vials. Once they saw him loot the coffin, they charged and he readied his weapon, pulling on the first trigger to bring the blade back in. Running at the first one with the stake driver and firing it. Impaling it on the stake with a blossoming burst of blood. He tried to pull the dead body off the stake as he looked at the two others charging as swinging at him. 

He used the body to block the two. One of their cleavers burying itself in the body. The other going wide past him from him ducking to the side.He pulled the stake from the defeated one and slashed at the second remaining. The blade sticking into the head, cutting through halfway before being stuck in the skull. The dim light in its eyes died as he was splattered by its blood. The third attacked him, swinging wildly. He jumped back as it swung before he clicked the stake back into the driver and pulled the trigger in one movement. Splitting the arm of the undead like the fabled arrow the Robin Hood split as the stake pushed into it. 

He pulled the weapon from the broken being and took deep breaths as he calmed down from the fight.Looting more blood vials from the corpses. Gulping in lungfuls of foul air as he recovered, looking around the damp dark corridor. Ignoring the newly made corpses, absorbing their memories through the echoes, worthless information, years of walking these corridors.Only benefit was helping him make a mental map of the dungeon.

Seeing a shadowy pair of double doors at the end of them.He walked to the doors, blood dripping from his grey clothing as he wiped it off his coat. He pressed his bloodied hands to the door watching the red trickle down the metal doors. Thankfully for his spine, they pushed inward so he could push them instead of having to lift it. 

He pushed them open all the way before seeing what was inside, nothing but inky blackness. It was very dark and he walked forward straining to see what was in here. Then he saw it, a hunched over figure. He took a step back as it turned to look at him. The movement made its back shift, the back flopped forward and slid down in front of its face. He felt repulsed by the things presence. What kind of beast had flesh from its back nearly torn off to flop around like a misshapen cape? 

It released an ear shattering howl and charged at him. He gasped and dashed to the side. It charged past him and crashed into the door, closing them as they clanged loudly. “Fuck!” he yelled as he heard them close. Now he was trapped. 

He kept the stake outside the driver as he rolled. Needing the extra length in its blade to slash at the beast as he passed, small spouts of blood arching through the air as it cut.

The beast was stunned by running into the doors and was holding its head in its hands.Pained groans coming from its maw. He slashed at its back legs to try and cut its tendons to slow it. He shifted the stake inside before launching it out into the beast’s heel. Shattering bone and severing flesh,pulling the stake from the ruined leg as it limped around to face him. Purple sprayed from the injury and its back, covering him, it smelled foul and he felt himself sicken from being exposed to it. He leapt back as he saw a swipe come at him. It would have taken his head off had he not leapt back. It roared again and he shifted the stake back into the driver.”Come on!” he yelled as he put distance between them. 

It charged regardless of its broken leg or his taunts. A strange lumbering gait, very predictable as he dodged again. Muscle memory telling him what to do.

My mind has lost the techniques, but my body still holds them. 

It swipes at him and he keeps rolling from it. He fluidly switched the stake back into the driver during a roll. A voice echoed in his head as he repeated the words as he drove the stake towards the beast’s head. "If a weapon ain't got kick, it just ain't worth it!" He yelled firing the spike into its face.

The spike gouged deep into the beast’s head and it fell recoiling. Its skull cracked open by his blow. With an almost sadistic glee that came from somewhere, he plunged his hand into the exposed brain,grabbing hold of a thicker part of it before pulling. A spray of purple burst forth as he ripped the brain and part of its misshapen spine free, crushing it in his hand. This new coating of poison sickened him worse and before he could become gleeful as the body exploded into blood. He fell backwards to the ground, vision purple from the poison. His insides felt like they were dying. A vial fell from his pocket. He picked it up from the floor, ‘healing blood’ it was labeled in scrawny handwriting. He tore the cap off and instinctively stabbed his thigh. His organs stopped feeling like they were dying as he waited for the toxin to be purged by the blood and his body. It was agony as he waited for it to cease.

The pain didn't end its torture of him for a for the longest time and he jabbed another vial into himself. 

The pain subsided before he felt his stomach twist and curl. Bile rose as he covered his mouth a moment before throwing up on the ground. The last thing he ate must have been quite a while ago, because what he vomited had a foul septic smell conjoined with the pungent miasma of iron and acid, the purple-red-yellow mix of blood, poison and stomach acid coming out in gushes. It was disgusting as he remained doubled over ridding himself of the toxins.

After a minute of suffering again he felt his stomach empty and the vomiting ceased. His throat stung and he considered stabbing another vial to make it stop. His hand reached for one before he stopped.

He’d need those for other fights and shouldn't waste them on annoyances.He laid there on the ground as he felt his mind expand and fill with experience and knowledge from killing the beast. His head felt fuller and wiser after slaying the beast. 

He stood up now, stomach making knots in his body from his purging of toxins. He looked around now, seeing the room better know that there wasn't a huge beast trying to rip him to shreds. 

There was a small of lantern on a rod in the middle of the room. He made his way to it leaving the stained floor behind, some light would be appreciated. He raised his empty hand to the lantern. It sparked to life before he could open it and light it himself. He recoiled slightly from its sudden illumination.

How in the heavens did it light itself. 

He touched the lantern warily and a bell like chime was heard as his world and sight became watery and hard to see before he was swallowed by darkness.


	2. In tempus nunc reminisce super praeteritum est, ante confractus venari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fragmented memory of his training returns to our protagonist, but will it provide more questions than answers?

Chapter two: In tempus nunc reminisce super praeteritum est, ante confractus venari

He woke up by a loud ringing that seemed to be omnipresent in his mind for it remained no matter how securely he pressed his hands to his ears. He groaned before being tapped with a object that sent electric current into his groggy form.Ringing banished and replaced by electric currents making him spasm slightly.

His eyes abruptly opened as he woke rapidly in his bed, looking up at a fatherly face albeit half covered with grey cloth. His master was holding a miniature tonitrus in his hand, having used the sparse power on its surface to jolt his apprentice awake.

“Master Djura!” he said in alarm before getting up. The familiar scent of the moon present in the room and a new one, ozone from the bolt power that came off the small device.

Djura just smiled warmly. “Morning Onttuu, indeed it’s your master, seems this little trinket works as better than the pots and pans I usually employ”

His apprentice chuckled nervous as he exited his bed messily. “I-I think I prefer the pans more” he said before jumping in place. A large boom and fit of laughter came from the distance. 

Djura looked out the window nearby. The Powder Keg workshop had a new hole blew in the roof. He laughed slightly. “ Bet the boys and girls down there just made a mistake or a breakthrough!” 

His apprentice looked out past his grey clad mentor. “ Is it the tonitrus cannon?” he asked eager. “ I was looking forward to shooting cannonballs filled to the brim with bolt” 

“Looking at the size of the hole I’d bet my gatling gun on it!” Djura said chuckling. “Come, put on your gear and head down to the workshop” He said before patting his apprentice on the head. Then with that said he turned around and left the room.

He turned around to see his master leaving and he scrambled to get out of his pajamas and into his Powder Keg uniform. Throwing open the old wardrobe in the common quarters and taking his power keg gear from the small chest inside. Putting on the ashen grey gear and making sure it fit properly. Then putting his pajamas into the small chest to replace the hunting outfit.Then making his bed properly before leaving.

The Powder Keg workshop was outside the city ever since their expulsion from the normal workshop. It was mostly metal riveted, bolted, and nailed to a wood frame. Inside were forges, bullet presses, sharpeners,more loud machinery, and an experimental machine called a welder that uses the power of bolt to join metal to metal.

Djura was standing in front of Metal Master Roy. Roy was cooling off a strange, yet familiar object with a pot of water that was being poured on it.Another powder keg apprentice holding another pot of water as Toy was explaining the weapon to Djura. “ So you see I changed the cannon from handheld to shoulder mounted. For recoil control of course. The bolt power kept shocking my testers so I circumvented that with some exotic material; rubber, bit expensive in importing but worth it to make such a devastating weapon. The rubbers on the grip and shoulder pad so the user doesn't get shocked.” Roy picked it up,the water having finished its job, then saw Djura’s apprentice approaching. “ah young Powder Keg...care to test the new weapon for this old man?”  
Onttuu glanced at the weapon as he looked at the other apprentice holding the water pot. The lass’s face even with the grey half mask read, ‘it’s your funeral’. He looked away from her as he examined the weapon. 

The weapon looked like a normal cannon with the exceptions of a shoulder mount, a forward grip with a trigger and a plate on the side where it would be held to protect the user's face from the bolt energy. All along the barrel of the cannon were round orbs similar to the tonitrus. Then at the mouth of it was a round orb split into four segments. When its trigger was pulled, the four segments opened up clearing the barrel for fire and bolt energy arched between them.

“It would be an honor Metal Master Roy” He said,as confident as possible despite his gut telling him it might be a bad idea. Onttuu took the weapon with both hands,placing it onto his shoulder. It was deceptively easier to hold than a normal cannon. Not having to lift it now, instead having to hold the weight with his entire bodies strength. 

He held it on his shoulder confidently and firmly.“The weight is more than a normal cannon but i’m sure it’s all the more powerful for it” Roy said before nudging Djura playfully. “What have you been feeding the boy? He’s holding it without a problem!” He said jokingly. Djura laughed. “He’s fed the same as the rest, chalk it up to youth and eagerness” 

Onttuu was embarrassed by their joking,he had been bullied as a child for being bigger than the rest, but it could also be because of his thicker frame he could carry the weapon, most hunters had taller frames but Onttuu barely hit 5’6 even with his wider frame. He was the shortest in the Powder Kegs but could carry their weapons without the assistance of being enhanced by blood from a combination of his body,diet, and training. The others had to ‘cheat’ slightly, taking healing blood from the church to boost their stamina and strength like the Executioners and Hunters. 

Jokes on the kids from school, I’m a Powder Keg and they’re all nobodies who hide in their homes from beasts.

Sometimes he had to think of ways to cheer himself up, being bullied frequently as a child did ‘wonders’ for self confidence. But he shook himself and spoke up. “Master Roy, Master Djura, were we going to test the weapon today?” 

Roy and Djura stopped their little chat. Roy grunted a bit then nodded, wiping some sweat from his ashen brow. “Of course young Powder Keg, let’s head to the firing range” Roy would begin walking as Djura turned to look at Onttuu, he nudged the wheeled crate Roy left behind that held the cannon before he arrived. “Smart idea to use this instead of carrying it the entire way don’t you think?” Onttuu nodded.  
Metal Master Roy waved off the water holding apprentice. “You can take your leave Leia, Onttuu will help us with the rest, won’t he?”

“Yes Metal Master Roy” He said before gently lowering the weapon into the crate and following them with the crate in tow. Leia placed the pot of water into the crate too and put the lid on it. She then bowed her head slightly to the senior powder kegs and left the three. 

They walked to the firing range, Roy and Djura waiting for Onttuu to catch up and stand with them. When he arrived he was slightly panting.The water had spilt slightly but all that had really done was splash him. For the few seconds he held the weapon, he appeared confident and able to hold it. But pushing it up a hill along with the heavy oak crate laden with an additional pot of water was taxing. He couldn’t imagine holding it for hours on end during a hunt.

“Here masters, sorry for the delay” He said banishing the exhaustion from his voice while speaking to his betters. 

Djura patted him on the back. “No matter the delay, you made it, better late than never” Djura said with a chuckle. 

“Let’s get it loaded and get the targets up” Roy said as he gave the signal to other workers of the Powder Kegs,they scattered to several different posts away from the targets that had been placed. “Ammo’s here, and the targets are over there” He said pointing at the stack of quicksilver cannonballs near the bushels of hay that served as the firing line.

Onttuu nodded as he picked up the cannon and bent over to grab a cannonball and load it. Popping open the cannon to load it and clicking it closed as he put it on his shoulder. One thing he noted was reloading this was slow and dangerous since it required him to glance down at the ground as he grabbed its ammo. In the night of the hunt, looking away from your prey is often a lethal mistake.

“Now the visor is to both protect your face and your vision from the Bolt element” Metal Master Roy lectured “But it might make aiming difficult but your eyes will thank you”

Onttuu nodded, keeping his mouth closed in case a groan or sound of protest escaped from the opening. He looked through the glass slit in the face shield and picked his target from the row on the opposite side of the firing range. 

He braced himself as he squeezed the trigger. The weapon wasn’t immediately fired, instead the spheres on the cannon’s barrel sparked and hummed, spinning in place as Bolt poured from them. Then he felt the powder charge ignite and it fired. Sending a azure bolt of power that contained a cannonball somewhere in it towards the target. As it travelled arcs of Bolt jumped from the projectile and into the hay,earth,trees, and anywhere it could go. 

Upon impact the target’s steel plate that served as the bullseye was melted by the extreme Bolt and fused with the cannonball as it flew through the air being pulled with it. The scarecrow body was ignited and smashed to burning splinters and cinders. 

When the weapon was fired Roy dashed behind cover. Djura hesitated as the weapon was still humming and seemed to be harmless. But the moment it released its bolt enhanced cannonball and fried everything in front of it, Djura lept with the reflexes befitting his status as a dreaming hunter behind the cover Roy had fled to.

Onttuu’s ears rang as he was knocked to the ground, having let his guard down because of the delayed fire.Putting the smoking weapon to the side as he laid in the dirt and kneaded his ears to attempt to coax hearing back into them. But he had to admit the weapon was effective at killing had that been a beast or human. “Master Roy I think it works!” He yelled over his ringing ears.

Roy peaked out from behind a post. “Ah yes quite effective, but noisy” He said surveying the damage of the blast and comparing it to the hole in the roof of the workshop. Djura got out of cover as well and patted his apprentice on the back. “Nice shot so-apprentice” 

Onttuu turned to look at his master from the ground.Everyone’s voice was tinny and sounded far off “Sorry what?” He asked his hearing still recovering.

Djura sputtered slightly and pulled out his pocket watch. “Well..ah look at the time, We have a meeting with the healing church at noon and we should get going before it's too late, clean yourself up and get to the carriage” 

“It's only ten in the morning Master Djura?” His apprentice questioning the jump in subject matter. 

“Well it's better early to arrive than late” He said as he began walking to the entrance of the workshop and to the stables where the carriage was. “Come now Onttuu” 

Onttuu followed his master to the carriage, one of the other apprentices having taken the initiative and used a brush to clean off the dirt as they walked and stepped inside with him as they began riding to the cathedral ward. 

Djura gave a thumbs up to the grey clad apprentice who was clearly happy to get the approval of the senior most powder keg,then closed the carriage door.

After a period of time inside the carriage,Djura spoke up. Coughing first as his apprentice still had ringing ears and used the cough to get the boys attention. ”I think I owe you an explanation about why we’re going to the church today” Onttuu perked up from looking out of the grey drab carriage with a finger in his ear. Putting his hands in his lap and putting the glove back on, he had removed it to try and clean the ringing from his ears. “Y-Yes, I think I’d like to know…” He said a bit tone deaf still. 

Djura shifted in place as he got comfortable. “You remember your childhood yes? Our training hasn’t beaten it out of your head? Members of the church visiting your orphanage and taking samples of childrens blood?”

Onttuu nodded despite the shiver down his spine. Men and women in black robes lead by a single woman in white would come to the orphanage and sometimes have everybody line up on the wall and let a man in black church robes draw blood from them. It was scary to stand against a cold brick wall unable to leave the room as the man slowly and carefully drew blood from the children. Each drawing of blood punctuated with a scream, squeal, groan or other noises of discomfort. All leading up to him. His wrist was seized by the black gloves and he could still hear the voice. “Don’t worry this won’t hurt a bit...” The man said before taking a fresh syringe and stabbing into the crook of his elbow. 

“That was years ago Master Djura? Why bring it up now?” He asked rubbing the spot that had been stabbed repeatedly during his childhood without thinking. 

Djura looked out the window at the city. “Well they found something about your blood, but your subsequent adoption into the Powder Kegs, along with the losing of some papers meant that until now they had no clue where you were for years” 

“What did they find?” Onttuu asked, fear and other emotions churning his stomach, what if he was tainted with beast blood at a young age? 

“Nothing bad I’m sure, calm down, if it was bad, they would have sent an executioner and been done with it” Djura said waving his hand as if he was fanning away the fear in the air. 

“But apparently they wanted you to come to the church for a retest to make sure” He said as if this was a huge inconvenience to him despite the churches stature in the city. “But no matter what, you’re not getting taken from the Powder Kegs, I don’t care what they say or what that test does”

As he said that the gate to the church’s location opened and Djura sighed. “We have to walk the rest of the way” He said annoyed. 

They departed from the grey carriage. They had no weapons, Powder Keg weapons were too big to carry around casually in the city during the day. The weapons lacked the connotations of authority and security that the church's provided and walking right into the cathedral ward with such aggressive weapons was a surefire way to get arrested. 

They began the slow walk towards the top of the ward. There were a lot of stairs. There was a crowd of course, men and women in black church gear running about, people seeking miracles from the blood, children playing, and a man in white church robes watching the crowd from a balcony. There were even executioners standing guard with their wheels and greatswords.

Eventually they made their way past them all. Civilians parting for the grey robes and the scent of the moon and gunpowder. Both coming from Djura that seemed to radiate his authority. Onttuu on the other hand smelt of bolt and gunpowder from his recent use of the prototype cannon.Some parts of his hair also standing straight like needles.Thus they were a strange array of things to the senses.Tanned skin clashed with grey silver robes, combined with their fierce eyes and unique scents sent out the message of ‘these are hunters, let them pass’ 

When they made their way to the front of the crowd, a man in the black robes spoke up. “Ah...Master Djura of the Powder Kegs...come come your early arrival is no matter we can adjust for this” 

Djura looked at the man and smiled. “Leroy old friend so formal” He chuckled “And to think we hunted together, look at you now, you’re moving up in the world” 

Leroy nervously chuckled at Djura’s mentioning of his past with the Powder Kegs in public. “Ah..this way Djura” He said gesturing while gritting his teeth, moving to the side and into a corridor into the belly of the church. Djura and Onttuu followed him into the large church. 

They past by worshipers, praying members of the church, pews and dozens of incense candles and jars of liquid of unknown nature. Leroy spoke up “Now most of the church is busy so you’re going to have to wa-” He was cut off by a woman's voice. 

“Djura! Djura is that you?” A creaking of a wheelchair was heard and they all turned to look. Leroy looked at the woman. “ Vicar Iuliana-what a surprise,shouldn’t you be in the wo-” She cut him off. “I needed fresh air, a woman will go mad if she does the same thing over and over again”

Djura smiled and walked over to her arms outstretched before he hugged her. “Iuliana, of course it’s me” She hugged him back. “You’ve barely aged a day since you were with Gehrman” 

“Have I now?” he teased “Well I guess I have, but I feel old even if these bones don’t yet” He released her from the hug. She looked around Djura and at Onttuu “and is this your son?” She asked “He’s got your eye” Djura put his hand on his eyepatch reactively from the teasing. “Oh Iuliana he’s my apprentice, but perhaps he’s my blood, who knows i’m an old man and I might have bedded a woman and forgot” He said jokingly. 

Leroy was stunned clearly by seeing Vicar Iuliana chatting up the Leader of the Powder Kegs and clearly being old friends with him. But to his credit he did manage to speak after a while. “Um well this meeting is touching but Vicar Iuliana must head back to work and you must wait for your blood testing” He piped up.

“Nonsense they don’t have to leave just yet, in fact, I’ll do it” Vicar Iuliana said defiant and with a smug look on her face, the woman had steel in her voice and body despite her age. “There can be no objection to the Vicar doing such a test am I right?” 

Djura smiled. “What an honor Vicar Iuliana” He said with undertones of mocking Leroy’s objecting tone. Leroy opened his mouth but shut it and nodded.

Vicar Iuliana wheeled herself along with them and into one of the testing rooms. In the room was a strange series of nine tubes put into a pillar with a handle on the top. Iuliana sat next to it before pulling the handle to reveal it popped off into a strange syringe with nine needles. Onttuu’s eyes widened. “W-What is that?” He asked, the normal needles he got at the orphanage were nothing compared to being stabbed with nine at the same time.His stance defensive as he feels like the orphan in the brick room waiting his turn all over again. 

Iuliana looked at it. “Oh this? Its to draw your blood and separate it into the tubes in the holy tester.” 

Djura nudged Onttuu. “Quicker you let it happen the better, beleive me it doesn’t help the more you stare at it and let your imagination scare you” 

Onttuu walked to Vicar Iuliana,no longer hesitant because of Djura’s urging and rolled up his sleeve as Leroy gathered a bandage and a leather belt with bite markings in it. “You might want to bite down on something” Leroy advised as Vicar Iuliana brought the needles closer to his wrist. 

Onttuu bit down on the belt as Vicar Iuliana plunged the needles in his arm. The needles went in with a cold feeling in his flesh as he felt them. He groaned into the belt and clamped down on it. Drawing blood from him for a short while before taking it out, Vicar Iuliana put the needles onto the tubes and drained them into the tubes.

“Now the tubes are enchanted to only allow their kind of blood past the exit, so whichever tube drips blood at the end is your kind of blood” She explained as she watched the blood trickle down the tubes.

Onttuu didn’t look as he was focusing on not passing out right now from his squeamishness with being stabbed with needles where he could see it. Leroy began bandaging the stripe of needle marks as he groaned again. After Leroy finished he spat out the belt and looked at the blood. 

Eventually the blood reached the ends and out of one tube leaked his blood onto a small tablet of stone. 

Vicar Iuliana examined it, “Well not only are you clean of the beast taint, your blood is that of O” 

Djura and Onttuu would have relaxed if they knew what Donor Saints were. “I share by blood with who? Who is O? Are they my one of my parents?” Onttuu asked thinking he misheard her or that she somehow discovered something important. 

Vicar Iuliana looked at him, tilting her head slightly. “Oh yes I forgot you and Djura aren’t studiers of blood types, Blood type O is a healing blood type that is beneficial for people to partake in, you’ll be a bit healthier than usual person and people who use your blood will recover more from it, just like how some people's blood allow recovery of stamina after use or slow recovery of health, it's considered a curse by some in the church though, your body will reject all other blood except for the holy blood or blood of its fellow O types, you’ll become sickened by partaking in the blood of others and too much could kill you....” 

Everyone other than her looked surprised and confused at this. Djura walked over to her,while his apprentice remained rooted to the spot he stood at. He whispered something to her and she nodded and put some of the dripping blood into a vial and stowed it away. 

“Master, Vicar? what was that about?” Onttuu asked them after she was finished and he snapped out of his silence. 

“Oh nothing important” Vicar Iuliana said as she wheeled over to the exit. “Just some additional testing but we don’t need you to give more for it” 

“Oh thank goodness” He said with a sigh of relief. Djura walked over to his apprentice and patted him on the back. “Now let's head back to the workshop so you can keep training,no need to worry about your blood type, on the brightside you literally can’t get driven mad from bloodlust without dying, a natural hardiness against beasthood if you look at it that way” The older hunter said trying to soothe the impact of finding out that you had a blessing and a curse. 

Onttuu nodded to act like it had helped him,when in reality it might of made it worse, and followed his master out of the room and the church,bowing goodbye to the Vicar before heading back to the Powder Keg’s carriage.Stumbling down the stairs of the church with his master as he does his best to not let the revelation put him into despair. The grey mask hiding his face, and his dirty glasses keeping his eyes hard to see. As his shaky and clammy gloved hands touched the grey wooden doorframe he felt as if he had swallowed a fisherman's hook and was abruptly dragged into darkness by what felt like his throat before he could make a noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know, the hardest part of this fan fic is deciding the chapter names? Followed by guessing what concepts and other things would exist in the bloodborne world? And it goes with out saying correctly characterizing people is hard too.
> 
> Also sorry for the long delay between chapters, I was really unsure of this chapter up until I decided to bite the bullet and publish it to at least stop procrastination on chapter three.

**Author's Note:**

> So some context first, this is a thing that resulted from me running into the author of Paleblood on msparp. We had a fun time with our ocs and that sparked this. This has been in the works since december of last year so here we go with the first chapter.If you liked it don't worry, theres more to follow.


End file.
